Page 60 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

It’s only when our breathing slows to a normal pace that he clears his throat. “Are you still cold, Bladesinger?”

I shake my head. My eyes fall to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. “No.”

“Good,” he breathes. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me into his lean frame. “Rest, now.”

Melting into his embrace, I close my eyes. Despite the desire still coursing through me, sleep tugs at my mind, and I let myself drift away in Asheros’s arms.

Chapter Seventeen

I’m still in Asheros’s arms when I wake the next morning. It would seem that neither of us moved throughout the night, arms and legs still entangled the way they were when I closed my eyes.

Asheros sleeps soundly, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. There’s no sign of the calm, collected, and calculated male that I’m so used to seeing. His mouth is free from his wicked smirk, white-blond hair falling in front of his eyes.

Without thinking, I brush it back. The moment I realize what I’ve done, I freeze. But he doesn’t stir, and I relax. Studying his features, I can’t help but notice how beautiful he is. Seeing him this way, this peaceful—this at ease—shows me a side of him I’ve never seen before.

My chest pangs. What happened that made him learn to build so many walls?

Perhaps we’re both wounded in ways no one else can see.

My gaze falls to his bare chest, to the toned muscle I see there. Remembering what happened last night, my heart leaps into my throat, my breath catching, and I raise my fingertips to my mouth. The memory of his touch, of his lips on mine, lingers on my body, sending a rush of heat to my cheeks.

Gods above, Lymseia. What have you gotten yourself into?

Before I can consider the thought, Asheros’s brows pinch together, then he opens his eyes and reaches his arms above his head in a stretch.

“Morning,” he says. That effortlessly smooth quality returns to his demeanor. Clasping his hands, he rests them beneath his head. “Sleep well?”

I purse my lips, channeling some of his confidence. “Well enough.”

“Well enough, you say?” he echoes, brows rising. Rising to a sitting position, he leans forward and casually rests his forearms against his thighs. “I have it on good authority you slept like a baby.” He smirks, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. “In fact, you may have even snored.”

My jaw drops with playful offense. I shove him. “I do not.”

Asheros laughs, holding up his palms in surrender. “I’m only the messenger.”

Rolling my eyes, I move to stand.

Asheros clasps my wrist and pulls me back. Pulls me to him. I turn to him when he does, and our gazes lock instantly.

“What?” I ask, suddenly breathless.

“Last night… You were….” His voice trails off and his eyes search my face, falling to my lips. “Gods-damn it, Bladesinger,” he growls, running a hand through his hair, like he’s frustrated by what he’s about to say. “My body calls to you.”

Adrenaline gathers in my stomach the way it would if I was about to step into the ring for a sparring match.

Only, this is so much more powerful and all-consuming. Like I’m abuzz with energy.

“Just your body?” I ask, my voice dropping.

Asheros holds my gaze, not once wavering. “You know the answer to that, Bladesinger.”

Thrilling elation dances across my skin. Because gods-damn me, my body calls to his, too.

And not just my body.

My soul.

I bite my lower lip to suppress my grin.

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